


filial pity

by queenofcawdor (orphan_account)



Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hartley is a dick, M/M, Metaphors, Supervillains, and i don't play chess, bc chess metaphors are too cliche, but at least he can hypnotize people what the hell cw, card metaphors, cw!Hartley is a little more like comics!Hartley, first chapter follows canon for the most part, i also don't play w trading cards but, so piper gets an upgrade, the rogues get together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/queenofcawdor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartley Rathaway needs his pipe and his rats. He doesn't need his father issues.<br/>Cisco Ramon needs to feel useful. He doesn't need his family judging him.</p>
<p>Hartley finds himself a better family. Cisco already has one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. phase one

 

Hartley Rathaway is many things. He is a genius, a polyglot, and, perhaps most importantly, an asshole. He’s more than those labels, however. He attends meetings for Central City’s admittedly small socialist party, and he uses “liberated” funds to sponsor LGBTQ youth programs.

 

He hates a lot of things. He hates his family for disowning him. He hates Dr. Harrison Wells for, God, everything. He hates the irony of his metahuman ability most of all. Sound has never been his ally. When he is born, it denies him. His parents force sound into his life, through implants that pain him. And, when Harrison Wells fires him and the particle accelerator explodes, sound attacks him.

 

Hartley responds by stealing sound-canceling headphones from the nearest shooting gallery, and he designs his own implants that protect him from sound. It is a war, he realizes. He reacts accordingly, and plants explosives into his ears.

 

He designs sonic technology in many stages. First, there are the gloves. He can set them to various objects’ natural frequencies, and Hartley smiles at his brilliance. Again, he is an asshole. From there, he gets his next idea: the pipe. He adjusts a flute to allow him the same destruction as the gloves, but he includes an ability for him to hypnotise people with it.

 

He likes the flute much better, as only he can use it. That last idea is one of the few adjustments he makes to the original flute he designed at age sixteen. It looks innocuous, so in the event of capture by STAR Labs, he could likely bring it with him. Hartley decides to use the gloves in his first attack. Oh, he notices STAR Labs is where the Flash makes his home. His first real target will be there, he decides, and continues playing with the rats his playing tends to attract.

 

_I’m the Pied Piper,_ Hartley decides, smirking at his flute and the dozen rats that are curled up at his feet. He recalls his mother’s absolute hatred of rats and drafts a plan to get to STAR Labs from the inside. He raises the flute to his lips and starts a lullaby.

 

\-----

Cisco Ramon can’t honestly believe his life. He is a genius, damn it. And hilarious, and adorable. Why are his parents so ridiculous? Any other family would treat him as the favorite!

  
  


He sighs and shifts his mood somewhere happier. He does get to work at _STAR Labs_ , after all, with the _Flash._

 

“Cisco, any metahuman reports?” Harrison Wells is remarkable in that he manages to loom from his wheelchair. Looming is hard enough when you are taller than someone.

 

Cisco checks, and, _oh, you have_ **got** _to be kidding him_. “The Rathaway home has fallen prey to rats. Exterminators come, but the rats...avoid them and continue destroying the house.”

 

“...Rathaway?” Harrison Wells blinks, caught off guard for the first time since Cisco has met him. “A metahuman who can control rats, it seems.”

 

“Please, _please,_ don’t let him be Hartley,” Cisco prays.

 

“Hartley?” Caitlin says as she enters the room. “As in, Hartley Rathaway? Please tell me we don’t have to deal with him.”

 

“Who’s Hartley?” Barry asks, somehow already behind Cisco.

 

Cisco sighs and tells him, “He was our co-worker, but he quit before the particle accelerator went up. It was a big surprise, too, given how much he liked to hold his higher position over us. Hartley Rathaway is a genius. And, unfortunately, an asshole.”

 

“Wait, Hartley Rathaway? As in, the Rathaways? Why was he working when he has that much money?”

 

“Parents disowned him when he came out,” Caitlin says, voice soft. It hardens, and she continues. “He doesn’t have access to that money, but my question now is why you mention him, Cisco.”

 

Cisco tells them about the Rathaway infestation. Barry suits up. He runs to the Rathaway mansion, cocky smile in place as he enters his “Flash” persona.

 

He reaches the mansion, and Barry hopes he never sees that many rats again.

 

“Definitely metahuman,” he mutters to his team.

 

“Please don’t be Hartley,” Barry hears Cisco muttering.

 

“If it is, that means there’s an excuse to hit him,” Caitlin hisses back, uncharacteristically vicious.

 

“Hello, Flash. And, of course, your little friends talking to you. Cisco Ramon, Dr. Snow, and the ever-present _Harrison Wells_ ,” a voice behind him manages to put a sneer into the words. It’s incredible, and very obnoxious.

 

“... _Fuck_ ,” Cisco bites out.

 

“Language, _Cisquito_ ,” the hooded man--this must be Hartley Rathaway, Barry’s mind supplies belatedly--mocks. “I can hear the radio waves emanating from your suit. About 1900 megahertz. Ignore them, Flash. You know, I wonder: are they going to hear you die?”

 

“No, they are going to hear you get your ass kicked,” Barry responds. He thinks he should join an improv troupe, as he really is fast on his feet (in many ways).

 

And then--holy _fuck_ what the _fuck_ is happening? Rathaway is hitting him with...waves? Sonic waves of energy hit him, and holy shit that hurts his ears.

 

“Flash, what is happening?” Harrison Wells speaks calmly.

 

“Sonic waves coming from his gloves. I’ve got to get them off,” Barry responds.

 

“Clever battle plan, Flash,” Hartley calls across at him. _What an asshole_ , Barry thinks.

 

Barry grabs the gloves off of Rathaway, then he picks him up and runs back to STAR Labs. Barry puts the gloves down before he enters the main hall with Rathaway.

 

“Being scooped up by a guy clad in head to toe leather is a longtime fantasy of mine, so thanks,” Hartley quips. He notices the three former coworkers of his. “Well, well, well, the gang’s all here. You’ve lasted a lot longer than I would’ve thought, Cisco.”

 

“And you didn’t last ten seconds against the Flash,” Cisco responds, anger coating his words.

 

“I was thinking of calling myself Pied Piper,” Hartley smirks. He knows they won’t get his full meaning.

 

Cisco steps closer to Hartley; surprisingly, he’s angrier. “Hey! I decide the nicknames around here. Although that one’s not bad. Also, rats? Is it because you look like one that you are able to control them?”

 

“I can hear them, you know. There aren’t any at STAR Labs. That can be fixed,” and Hartley’s smirk deepens. He shifts his expression to something sad. “Caitlin, I never did get that wedding invite.”

 

“Shut the hell up!” Barry shoves his shoulder, and Cisco leads him to his cell. Hartley learns some about his new accommodations and repays them with snark in four languages. He tries to ignore the anger Harrison Wells’ fake apology inspires.

 

Hartley waits for them to figure out his plans before he strikes. He pulls the explosives out of his ears--and _God_ , that will never not be painful. His containment blasts open, and he notices Cisco’s crashed position. He smirks; Cisco is clever enough to figure it out after all.

 

It’s a short step to take out Dr. Snow, and he receives his gloves and the information he wants on the Flash. He quickly mangles the trackers Cisco placed in them and thinks about his plan of killing the Flash.

 

It is far too easy to become a killer, but Hartley knows he must not add that extra taint on his soul. He reconsiders, however. If he got close to the team at STAR Labs, if he caused distrust towards Harrison Wells, the rewards of such work would be greater than the pain a capture could cause him.

 

He heads to a bridge, and Hartley...hurts people. He doesn’t like to think about it. Sure, the Flash catches them in time to save them. The trauma Hartley surely causes is painful, and he is the reason for it. He sets his gloves’ emergency frequency to low, and when the Flash begins to recoil in pain, Hartley hopes it is low enough.

 

He mocks the superhero, hoping his voice doesn’t waver. Hartley is not a coward, but he is not a killer either. Once he gets his revenge, he plans to give more money to his charities.

 

Then, _Harrison Wells_ , fuck. It can only have been Harrison, and the satellite radio waves destroy his gloves. Hartley thanks someone that he designs his tech to have different frequencies. But sound is screaming in his ears, and he passes out.

 

He wakes up in his containment cell again, and he smiles. He plants hopes in Cisco’s mind, hopes that Cisco can find Ronnie. Plants doubts about Harrison Wells, without revealing all he has learned. _Beginning phase II_ , he muses, and his smirk, ever present, grows.

 

 


	2. piper in the pipeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the most filler chapter to ever fill up space. written out of guilt for not updating. 
> 
> or: the one where hartley is in the Pipe jail   
> or: the one where hartley hypnotizes and manipulates his way to the good side.  
> or: the one where hartley uses metaphors more than he actually speaks whoops

Hartley holds his flute close to him.

 

“Why do you have that?” Cisco asks him. Adorable.

 

“It’s boring in here without entertainment, _Cisquito,_ ” Hartley purrs. He’s almost embarrassed at himself, but Hartley is more than proud of the utter asshole he is. Is that a--is Cisco blushing?

 

“Since when have you carried a flute with you?”

 

“Since when do you care?” Okay, so Hartley is a _little_ snarky. He’s pretty sure he’s gay enough to afford some sass.

 

“I--I don’t care. I’m just making conversation, asshole. Also, I don’t trust you with that flute.”

 

“Aw, I just want to join the Flash Mob and get rid of Doctor Evil.” Hartley inclines his head towards the camera. “No offense, Doctor.”

 

“Wha--? We are not mafia! Also, it’s not called that. Team Flash or bust, Rathaway, and either way, you are not on the team,” Cisco is endearingly obstinate. Hartley rather wants to poke his cheeks. Which is a dangerous line of thought, because only _Hartley_ is allowed to be that adorable.

 

It’s his most prized weapon, after his flute. Speaking of which… Hartley rolls his eyes and scoffs, signalling to Cisco that the conversation is over. He begins playing on his pipe, a soft suggestion to trust him. He knows the speakers will relay it properly; he did design them to be _excellent._

 

A few more days of pipe-music and hypnosis and Harley should be free to join the Flash Mob. Hartley has experience dealing with mobs; before he returned to Central City, he helped a young mobster with a peculiar limp in Gotham. Oswald Cobblepot--really quite an interesting fellow. Intense. Bit too focused on his hair.

 

Hartley always enjoys meeting other geniuses. If he doesn’t have to compete with them for an employer’s attention, that is. In any case, Hartley hopes to muster up enough suspicion of “Harrison Wells” who, according to the shockingly intelligent computer named Gideon Hartley’d hacked, is actually some guy from the future named Eobard Thawne.

 

Which, honestly, if he was from the future, did it honestly matter what name he had? No one would look at his name and think, “Oh, man, this guy is from the future!” Hartley is consistently disappointed in himself for ever losing any game of chess to such a paranoid asshat.

 

Regardless. Hypnotism. Hartley really figured out how to incorporate the “Anti-Life Equation” into his sonic around age 16. But, it’s really his metahuman hearing that fully expands his powers. As a nerd formerly connected to rich family, Hartley is more than aware of the superiority of the extension packs to starter packs of cards.

 

So. If his (painful) cybertech neuro-audio implants (honestly, Hartley can’t properly describe the horror that his parents have inflicted on him in _any_ language, much less English) count as his starter pack, Hartley has, by now, risen to champion card-status.

 

Except, this is just an extended metaphor, so Hartley moves on from his musing to continue hypnotizing. Cisco is long gone, probably sulking and tinkering with one of Hartley’s former projects.

 

In any case, this underground prison is home to plenty of interesting people. Not many of them are interesting conversation. Well, there aren’t many of them, but if Hartley still had his funds, he’d hire so many lawyers to get on STAR Lab’s ass. What happened to due process and shit?

 

Whatever. Hartley doesn’t need to deal with assholes and idiots. He sulks--er, continues playing his music. He’s capable of multitasking. It comes with being a self-important genius.

 

In any case, Hartley doesn’t think he’s that bad a guy. Any damage inflicted has been minimal. Also, he is using some of his liberated funds to help some of the older AIDS victims and homeless youth. Really, he is doing more with that money than anyone he takes it from. The Merlyns and Queens in Starling City, the Falcone family and the Elliots in Gotham (never the Waynes, as they actually did do a lot for the city. Hartley remembers meeting Bruce Wayne when the kid was still a toddler and hadn’t seen his parents get shot in front of him), and various accounts that could afford some skimming are his targets.

 

Plus, Hartley gets dimples when he smiles. No evil person has dimples. An unscientific theory, but he has ample proof. Anyways, he needs something to get onto the side of Good and finally fill his deep craving for Revenge. He already is some sort of hero to the kids he cares for.

 

After a few days of sulking, music-playing, and Tina Fey-watching, Hartley is ready to move. Or rather, he’s ready to get taken into the Flash Mob. If he focuses, he can hear them talking upstairs. If his math was right, they should be discussing his transfer to the Good side.

 

“ _\--you kidding? Hartley. You want Hartley Rathaway to join Team Flash,_ ” says Caitlin. Ugh, Hartley thinks. It’s Flash Mob. These people, honestly.

 

_“Hey! He’s brilliant, we all know that.”_ Thanks, Cisco. _“Also, he knows what we don’t about Wells. And, he knows something about Ronnie. Ronnie, Caitlin.  Plus, Pied Piper never caused too much damage, and he kind of has the easiest weakness to manipulate._ ”

 

Okay, asshole, thinks Hartley. Because honestly, he is so much more badass than Cisco evidently thinks, and Hartley is somewhat offended.

 

_“I mean, he did kind of try to kill me, but I’m pretty sure that if he wanted to kill me right away, he could have.”_ That must be the Flash, who obviously has his head on right, because hell yeah Hartley could have killed him. Almost did.

 

_“Come on, Barry._ ” Caitlin says, tightly. Did they honestly not know what a secret ID was? “ _...Fine. Do you want me to let him out?_ ” 

 

_“No, I’ll do it,_ ” Cisco sounds eager. Hartley gets the vibe that he isn’t alone in this dance they’ve always had.

 

Finally. Hartley opens his eyes and grabs his flute. If it took too long, he’d worry about his cat, but now everything is on schedule with what he paid the petsitter for.

 

Cisco lays down the deal for him: no crime, a commitment to Team Flash ( _Flash Mob_ , Hartley corrects distantly), and occasional aid in event of emergency.

 

“How, in all the stars, would I keep up with the Speedster? and what would I be assisting with?” Sure, he expects to get that offer, but the question is nonetheless fair.

 

“You’ve got a connection to the information from the street kids, for one. Definitely in research. Ooh, and you can work on weapons if you behave. Also, as for keeping up, the Arrow seemed to manage pretty well.” Shit, the Arrow is in on all this?

 

“I agree to the terms and conditions,” Hartley smirks.

 

“Just in time, Rathaway, because we’ve got an emergency.”

 

“Give a guy a minute, Jesus,” Hartley mutters, but allows Cisco to open his cell door.

 

“Metahuman who can teleport to anything she can see.”

 

“Flash can’t keep up?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Let’s get started. I can whip up an EMF to take out lights and put it on my suit.”

 

“It’s my suit!”

  
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, plagiarist.” 


End file.
